


Hotel Suite

by llaras



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Couch Sex, Hotel Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 08:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4739189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llaras/pseuds/llaras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando's learned a thing or two from his time with his hobbit friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hotel Suite

**Author's Note:**

> For the evil and sweet [](http://kelly-girl.livejournal.com/profile)[kelly_girl](http://kelly-girl.livejournal.com/) who egged me on when I started this in chat one night and who also had many brilliant suggestions. *smooch*

Twelve interviews done today. Half in the suite itself and half done on the phone. After the last one he took a moment to roll a couple cigarettes and make a drink from the bar before calling his publicist. He's kicked off his shoes and socks and settled into the big leather chair he's sat in all afternoon, finally able to lounge and relax a bit.

"Yeah, they all went fine. Except that one from that last magazine. He was an idiot. What?" He reaches for his lighter. "Okay, photo shoot, ten sharp. Fine."

There's a knock on the door just as he lights the cigarette.

"Were there any more interviews scheduled?" he asks. The answer is no, but he puts his hand over the phone and calls out anyway. "Come in!" Maybe it's the bellboy or that sandwich he ordered two hours ago.

But it's not a hotel employee. It's Orlando. Grinning from ear to ear. Johnny hasn't seen him in what seems like forever. He looks basically the same, if a bit older. All white teeth and dark hair. He's wearing blue jeans and a faded red t-shirt, brown jacket, backpack slung over one shoulder. He's motioning over to the sofa, indicating that he'll wait for Johnny to finish his call. Johnny nods and holds up a finger. "It'll just be a minute," he whispers.

"How long do I have this suite for?" he asks into the cell phone. He smiles over at Orlando when he hears the answer. Orlando smiles back.

"It's nice. Old World? I don't know." He looks around the room and takes another drag from his cigarette. Exhales. "Dark. Dark and heavy. Dark wood, dark fabrics, big gold mirrors. Everything looks solid." He pauses. "And dark, yes."

Orlando laughs.

"Well, I'm no interior decorator, am I?" he asks.

Now Orlando is digging through his backpack. He pulls out a water bottle and takes a long drink. Johnny tries not to watch as Orlando swallows half the bottle in one go, neck tilted back, adam's apple bobbing, honeyed skin stretched taut...

He loses track of the conversation.

"What?" he almost yells.

Orlando looks him straight in the eye and winks.

Johnny drops his cigarette.

"Shit!" he says. "Hold on."

But Orlando gets to the dropped cigarette first, picks it up before it can burn a hole into the rug. The dark, heavy, and very expensive rug. He stubs out the cigarette in the crystal ashtray on the table next to Johnny, wagging his finger in a disapproving manner.

Johnny lights another.

Orlando gives him a grim look, determination settling into his features. He turns away and walks over to the door, taking the do not disturb sign off the inside knob and waggling it at Johnny, one eyebrow raised in question. Johnny says goodbye to his late, but still longed for sandwich, and quickly agrees with a nod, goes back to the conversation.

"Do you think we can push back that morning meeting?" he asks. "No, no. Just thinking about going out, meeting some old friends. I'd rather be on time than late is all."

Orlando heads back, but not towards the sofa. He stops in front of Johnny, his eyes doing a slow crawl from Johnny's mouth, to white shirt, cuffs unbuttoned, black tailored trousers, bare feet, and then back up, stopping at crotch level. He licks his lips, eyes flitting up to meet Johnny's. He doesn't wait for permission.

Instead he drops to his knees in one easy motion, his hands on Johnny's knees. Johnny's hands shake a little.

"Wait," he says.

Orlando looks up, but it's obvious that the word wasn't directed at him. Johnny is looking in the other direction, reaching for his drink. So he slides his hands up Johnny's thighs, thumbs rubbing at the dark, thick material. He leans in a bit, pulling Johnny's legs open, making room for his body between Johnny's knees.

"No, I haven't seen that article yet. Do you think it's a possibility?"

Hands on his zipper.

"I don't know. Haven't really thought about it."

Hands on his dick.

"Um. I. Uh."

Orlando's hand is warm. And very talented. It slides down and then back up with a little twist. Just how Johnny likes it. It's nice to be remembered. He gives Orlando an appraising look.

"Yeah, I'm still here. Sorry." He closes his eyes and leans his head back, scooting down in the chair, the space between his legs getting wider in the process. He takes a drag on his cigarette and blows the smoke back out with a little sigh. He's gone from half hard and interested to very hard and ohfuck in less than twenty seconds. He really wants to get off the phone.

Orlando has one hand on Johnny's hip, rubbing circles there while the other jerks him off. It's soothing in an odd way and he feels the tension of the day finally start to drain away under Orlando's careful ministrations.

"All right. I'll remember."

The movement stops for a second and he looks down, just in time to see Orlando's mouth open.

"Of course I will."

He's taken in. The hands have stilled while Orlando focuses his attention on kissing and licking and ohmygod sucking. Johnny groans.

"Listen, I gotta go," he says as he drops his half smoked cigarette in the ashtray. He clicks the phone shut.

Orlando looks up, eyes shining brightly, smiling while his mouth is busy.

The phone rings.

"Fuck!" Johnny yells. "I hate this goddamn thing!"

Orlando pulls back. "Do you have to take it?"

Johnny looks at the screen. "Yes," he sighs.

"Do you want me to stop?" Orlando asks with a small pout.

"No." He reaches down and strokes the side of Orlando's face, runs his hands through his hair, traces one silver-ringed thumb across Orlando's eyelid as it closes in bliss. "Do. Not. Stop."

Orlando smiles and sucks Johnny's thumb into his mouth, tonguing the ring before letting it slide from his lips.

"Hello? Yes. No, I'm fine."

Slick heat envelops his cock. Orlando swirls his tongue around the head, while one hand slides under to tease the sensitive skin between balls and asshole. Johnny breathes out hard.

"Sorry. I forgot about that. No, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, maybe."

He covers the mouthpiece. "Look at me," he commands in a quiet tone. Their eyes meet. Promises are made.

"Yeah, maybe I should. I'm fine. Really. Yes." Johnny looks over to the table, breaking eye contact for a moment, desperate for another cigarette. But he hasn't rolled any more, so he finishes his drink instead, sucking down two-thirds of a vodka tonic, nearly choking on the half melted ice cubes.

He looks back down at Orlando and smiles. "More than fine."

Orlando picks up the pace, he sucks Johnny down to the root and swallows, slides back up, sucks on the end of his cock, all in one swift movement. Over and over. It's a take no prisoners blowjob. Johnny won't last long at this rate. Johnny wants to cry.

"Okay. Anything else?" Wrap it up, wrap it up. "Uh huh. Okay. Bye." He hangs up the phone and looks down at Orlando, who's stopped for a moment to breathe. Cheeks blushed pink, mouth open, lips red and a bit swollen. He looks delicious.

Johnny grabs him by the shoulders, hauling him up so they are face to face. "You've been practicing," he says, his tone a bit guarded, cautious. Orlando nods, but he's staring at Johnny's lips, doesn't seem to be really listening. "Damn hobbits," Johnny mutters under his breath.

Orlando is listening. "Yeah. But I picked up some new tricks. Want to see?" he asks, trying to slide back down to where he was just a moment before. But Johnny doesn't let him, pulls him in closer. Kisses him.

He can taste the coffee Orlando had at the little shop around the corner before coming up to the suite, a slight minty zing from toothpaste, and most of all, he can taste himself. His cock. In Orlando's mouth. It's been far too long.

"I'd rather fuck you," he says before taking Orlando's mouth again. This kiss is hotter, greedier, all teeth and tongue. Orlando groans and presses against him, letting Johnny fuck his mouth with his tongue. Then he's up, off Johnny's lap.

"I thought you'd never ask," he says, bouncing over to the sofa. He shucks off all of his clothes as hurriedly as possible and flops down on his side, his laughter as inviting as the pose he assumes.

Slow grin in response. Johnny gets out of the chair and walks over to the sofa, unbuttoning his shirt. He looks at the eager young man spread out before him.

Orlando waits as Johnny's gaze roams over his body, taking in the changes, the new muscles, the hard cock leaking pre-come. He sits on the edge of the sofa and presses one hand flat against Orlando's stomach. "You've changed," he says.

"So have you," Orlando says. He brings Johnny's hand up to his mouth, sucks in two fingers, lets them slide back out, nibbles and licks the fingertips.

"No," Johnny says. "No, I really haven't."

Orlando looks into Johnny's eyes, sees the lust there. The need. He wiggles in glee.

It only takes a moment to divest Johnny of trousers and shirt and then they are both stretched out on the sofa, skin touching in all the important places. Johnny traces the lines of Orlando's face, kisses him tenderly, biting at his bottom lip before sucking on it. Orlando's reaction is to stick his tongue in Johnny's mouth and groan. He grinds against him, needing this, the connection, the heat.

Johnny licks a stripe up Orlando's neck, kisses behind his ear. "What's the hurry?" he asks.

Orlando shudders under the assault of lips and tongue and teeth as sweet kisses turn to bites. "Fuck," he says. "I can't hold on much longer." He wrestles his way under, trying to get Johnny on top, between his legs.

"What is it with young men?" Johnny murmurs. But he allows himself to be pushed and pulled to Orlando's satisfaction, holds back a curse as their cocks slide together.

Orlando presses up even closer, trying to get any friction against his aching cock.

"Okay," Johnny says. "If that's the way you want it."

"Yesss," Orlando hisses. "Dirty and hard." He squirms a bit, reaching for his backpack, fishes out lube and a condom, hands them to Johnny.

"Ever the boy scout," Johnny says appreciatively.

"No more talking," Orlando says, arching up. "Just fuck me."

Johnny has to bite back the growl that starts out somewhere deep in his belly, threatens to spill out over this sexy man beneath him. He pushes Orlando back onto the sofa and kneels between his spread legs. He's surprised to see his hand shaking as he slips on the condom.

"Hurry," Orlando says as he reaches down to stroke himself. Johnny slaps his hand away.

"Turn over," Johnny says.

But Orlando doesn't. "No. Like this," he says. He draws his knees up, waiting for Johnny to lift his legs up.

"Got a bit more limber too, hmm?" Johnny asks as he gets them positioned. He slicks himself up and presses his thumb to Orlando's opening.

Orlando bucks underneath him. "No," he says. "I'm ready. Just do it."

So Johnny complies. He's past the point of arguing about it. He lines himself up with one hand while the other keeps a firm grip on Orlando's hip. He slides in so smoothly, so easily. "What," he says. "Oh, god."

Orlando grunts in approval. "I got myself ready," he says. "Right before I came in."

Johnny's head drops down. He tries to breathe. But he's shaking with the strain of holding back, trying to stop himself from fucking Orlando into the sofa.

"Johnnnny," Orlando keens. "Stop thinking. Just fuck me." He rolls his hips up.

Johnny gasps. "All right you little fucker," he says. "If that's the way you want it."

"Yes," Orlando says. "Yes."

Johnny pulls almost completely out and then just slams back in. Orlando groans. "Ohgodyes," he says.

So Johnny doesn't take his time, even though that's what he had in mind. A nice leisurely screw is replaced with hard, hot fucking. Emphasis on the hot, because it's starting to get a hell of a lot hotter in the room. He can feel the sweat trickling down his back, has to stop himself from reaching up to push sweaty hair from in front of his eyes.

Orlando is covered with a fine sheen as well, his breathing harsh as he meets Johnny's every thrust with a delicious roll of his hips.

"Touch yourself," Johnny manages to gasp out. He's not going to be able to last much longer at this rate.

Orlando grasps his own cock and starts pulling on it, timing his strokes with the hard pace Johnny has already set.

The phone rings.

"Fuuuuck," Johnny says. But he doesn't stop, he doesn't even glance over. If anything he goes even harder, faster, slamming into Orlando so hard the younger man almost whimpers with every thrust.

The cushions are starting to slip off the sofa. Orlando's toes are curling. He opens his eyes and watches Johnny, looks at his mouth. "Kiss me," he says.

Johnny groans as he leans down, loathe to interrupt their steady rhythm.

"Voicemail," Orlando says before Johnny claims his mouth and shuts him up. It's a punishing kiss, all teeth, no finesse. Just hunger and desperation.

They pull apart for a quick breath. "I love it when you fuck me," Orlando whispers.

And that's it for Johnny. His movements become frantic. Two, three final thrusts and he's spent, moaning, sprawled against an equally melted Orlando. He reaches between them, intent on finishing Orlando off, but his hand only finds stickiness and an already softening cock. He looks up in surprise. Gets a wicked grin in response.

"Got a little distracted there, didn't you?" Orlando sighs happily and rolls his neck, popping it. "Next time we use the bed, okay? Or maybe you could bend me over a chair?"

Johnny tries not to laugh.

"Ooo, you know, against the wall might be nice."

Johnny shakes his head. "Let's just bask in the afterglow for a moment, shall we?"

But Orlando is already two steps ahead. "Do they have one of those big tubs in here? Or we could..."


End file.
